hit counter
Creative Commons License

i slept in your
arms so comfortably
that i almost forgot
about time and

post modern times

a cute boy says hi

you have
headphones on

finishing the last pages of a good book

is like saying goodbye to a person

that has touched you deeply.

What should we wish for?

you asked me while we

watched shooting stars

and I said, I wish I could fly

and you said, that’s a good one

and then I said, I wish I could drive a car

and you said, why would you need

to drive if you could fly?

and I said, I don’t know, maybe

to just fit in or something,

I just want to be like everyonelse,

and you said, maybe you

should wish for that,

and I said alright

and you said, you gotta

be careful with what you wish for,

and I said, should I wish for that?

and you said, don’t be silly.

a young man going
through each day slowly
accumulating the experience
of suffering like a crack in the roof that
fills a bucket with drop by drop of rain

asks out loud, why is there suffering?

an echo comes back, no reason.

i love you very very much
and i don’t want you to die

the poet said to his most
cherished creation

After you die

your life will be etched

forever in the way

you made love.

Like a brush fire

torching dried hay.

I forget sometimes
That the reason I cry so much
Is because I love so much.

Farewell letter:

There were two things
I forgot to tell you
the first thing had to do
with the snow piling up in winter
and the second with the way
the rain falls in spring.
I forgot to tell you
because I only knew you
in the summer and the fall:
the times of long days
and pretty sunsets.

as a poet
I’m tired of being
at the whim of words
I want to break them open
and see what’s inside.

and i’m

tired of lighting
these stars alone

the universe says to time

and time says

in the innumerable
universes that exist
and have existed

you all
think that
you are alone

but you’re not.

i think
if i were to touch you

the mind said to the heart

i would go insane

a homeless man who
goes around the city
with a broom and a
handheld trashcan

cleaning up all the little

i ask him for his reasoning
for doing this, he says

i see a bunch of scattered
leaves so i do what i can

i looked at
the face
of beauty
and she
was crying

the poet says to time

please stop stop your
ceaseless swaying

and time
unwavering finally
pauses its swaying

and the poet sees
the face of eternity
and she is smiling
and she is beautiful